


The Heavens Hush Themselves to Hear (May 2017)

by escritoireazul



Series: Tied Up in Strings [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Glee Poly Family, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-09
Updated: 2011-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn has a confession to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heavens Hush Themselves to Hear (May 2017)

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: This is a transformative work of fiction for the television show Glee. Glee poly family for the win.

_Don't worry mother it'll be all right  
And don't worry sister say your prayers and sleep tight  
It'll be fine, lover of mine  
It'll be just fine _  
"Life Uncommon" Jewel

(May 2017)

Quinn has been moody for the last two weeks, and she lashes out at everyone for the little things, because they will love her no matter what she does: the way Finn leaves the dregs of cereal and milk in his bowl after breakfast like he always does; or the way Lauren doesn’t call to let them know she makes it in okay as soon as she lands on her latest trip to Chicago, even if she does have a really good reason, she's inundated with things to do for Shimmer before the plane reaches the gate, even though she’s not actively wrestling for Shimmer anymore, and she’s only there to spend a week or so with the young Sparkle hopefuls; or the way the gold stars Rachel puts on everything and everyone eventually lose their sticky and roll up into tiny balls that lurk in corners, nearly invisible; or the way Brittany and Santana and Mike scar the hardwood floor in the big front room dancing on it in heels, because Brittany is getting ready to leave for Ke$ha's come-back tour; or the way Sam and Matt tear up the backyard planning out an expansion to the garden. It’s not like they leave it forever, but it takes longer than anyone expects, and Quinn has no patience.

Work has been difficult, Rachel says, and she is underappreciated there. She makes sure to leave little sticky notes filled with praise for her on the mirror in the big upstairs bathroom and gold stars on the lunches Quinn takes with her to work. This is true enough, as it goes, but Quinn’s work is always stressful, and she is pretty and blonde and still looks young, so not all of her coworkers do appreciate her intelligence and drive to succeed as they should.

May means Mother’s Day, and Mother’s Day means _Beth_ , and some of them, including Sam, blame her bad mood on that. They made their peace with Beth years ago, and sometimes Shelby sends pictures of her to them, or cards with scribbles and then handwritten notes from Beth at the bottom.

Sam is particularly gentle with Quinn, because he remembers those nights in that hotel room junior year, Quinn sitting with him while his world was slipping through his fingers; the days she took Stacey by the hand and led her on nature walks or pushed her on the swings or spun in circles with her on the merry-go-round. He remembers the look on her face when Stacey wrapped her arms around Quinn’s leg and pressed her face against Quinn’s thigh, and the way Quinn gently brushed her fingers through Stacey’s blonde hair, watching her with full eyes and a softness around her mouth.

Sam asks if he can sleep with her the Friday after Lauren leaves, and when Quinn grants him permission to join her, he climbs into her bed. They don’t have sex. Instead they watch old episodes of _Criminal Minds_ and _Castle_ and _Bones_ , because Quinn likes them despite all the ways they get the details wrong and despite how much horror she sees every day as a children’s advocate.

They’re not his favorite shows to watch -- he hates when kids get hurt, and he’s not a huge fan of psychological terror -- but all he wants is to curl against Quinn so he can stroke her hair and press light kisses to the skin left bare by the silk camisole and shorts she wears to bed.

Quinn shuts off the television, sets the remote on her nightstand, and rolls toward him. She curls her hand along the side of his face and brushes her lips against the corner of his mouth. She doesn’t thank him for being there with her, but she tucks herself against his chest, and his happiness lulls him to sleep.

#

Quinn wakes earlier than Sam -- he and Finn and Puck and Mercedes will sleep until noon if they’re allowed -- and takes a moment to watch him. Her curtains are light and airy, thin white fabric that lets in the sunlight. It streams across the bed, filling the room with a soft golden glow. Sam twitches a little, moving restlessly in his sleep, and she smiles, quite fondly, her hands resting lightly on her stomach, her hair falling forward into her face. She is sated with sleep and the comfort of being with one of the people she loves.

She’s hungry and thirsty, but neither drives her from her bed. Instead, she is restless, and she rises so she won’t wake Sam. He sprawls out, taking all the space, and she watches him a moment more, smiling still.

Some of the bedroom doors are open -- Rachel has been up for hours of course, and Tina's and Mike’s rooms are empty, too -- but most still closed. (Only Matt, Finn, and Quinn sleep with their doors open. She knows why some of the others close their doors, but hasn’t figured it out for all of them. And yes, she could ask, but more she enjoys putting the puzzle together.)

Strangely, Puck’s door is open, his bed empty. She hesitates in the doorway, staring into a room decorated with blues and greens and dark wood furniture. He has framed pictures of everyone in various combinations on the walls, but pictures of Beth fill his dresser.

It’s too early for him to be awake unless they have plans, and then one of them is assigned to get him up. (Usually it’s Lauren or Matt or Finn, because they have no qualms at all about literally hauling him out of bed and dumping him on the floor. Sometimes Tina will grab Quinn and Mercedes and Rachel, and they will cluster together in the hallway, watching and laughing together. Tina tries to include Santana and Brittany once, but Santana hates getting out of bed until the last possible moment before she needs to get ready, even if she's not actually asleep, just lounging in peace, and Brittany thinks it’s a little mean. Which it is, but oh, it’s funny too.)

Quinn twists the slender silver ring around her middle finger; she wears it on her left hand. Lauren came home last year from her first RAW World Tour stop in Mexico City bearing bruises, stories about badasses, and silver rings for everyone. Quinn’s is simple, the curls of tiny waves etched in it.

She wishes Lauren was here for this, but it’s her own fault, putting it off for as long as she has. Of course, she could wait; Lauren will be home next Friday. For that matter, even with Lauren gone, she doesn’t have to do this alone. She could get Mercedes or Rachel or Sam or Tina or -- well, any of them, all of them, every one is happy to give her whatever she needs, and she would do the same for them. Whatever it takes to make them happy, she will do.

Which is why Quinn squares her shoulders and heads down the hall to Lauren’s room. It’s a corner room, and it’s one of the smaller bedrooms, but it has two outside walls, lots of windows, and it’s one of the closest to the stairs which lead to the back door. Quinn likes being closest to the front stairs, it helps her not feel trapped, but despite the size and intensity of their family -- or because of it, maybe -- Lauren still needs her solitude.

Quinn hesitates, one hand on the doorknob, then slowly pushes it open. Puck’s on his stomach on the bed, his face in the pillows, the line of his back smooth and tempting. Quinn eases the door shut behind her and pads barefoot across the floor, her steps whisper soft.

He wakes when she sits on the edge of the bed, pushing at him until he scoots over a little to give her room. She stretches out beside him, her head pillowed on his arm, their faces close together. (The pillows smell like Lauren’s shampoo. It’s sappy and sweet how it soothes her.)

“Morning,” Puck mumbles and cups her hip with one hand. She lets him angle their bodies closer together, but stops him when he tries to slip his fingers between her thighs. Sex is fantastic, particularly sleepy, comfortable morning sex, but that’s not why she’s here.

She feathers kisses lightly against his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw. The corner of his mouth turns up into a small smile; even that has echoes of the smirk he wears most of the time.

When she tries to speak, her words stick in her throat. There’s no good way to say this, but she’s going to tell him first. It is what feels right, even though it may hurt him. She doesn’t want to hurt him, and she thinks this will hurt him less than anything else.

“Puck.” She leans her head against his. Even though the mohawk is gone -- usually, he’s grown it back a couple times -- the nickname remains. It feels wrong now. “ _Noah_.”

“What’s up, Q?” He nuzzles against her, his body delightfully warm and comfortable.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering, and when she pulls away, she forces herself to be brave and just say it. “I’m pregnant,” she whispers, and his body goes very still against hers.

So many things are different now. They’re not young and dumb and unprepared for the consequences of sex. She’s not cheating on her boyfriend to be with him. Their relationships are solid; there are fights sometimes, and jealousy, but mostly they have learned to work through it. They know each other, all of them, in ways she never thought anyone would know her; they understand each other, all of them, in ways she never hoped anyone _could_ understand.

Things are _very_ different now. Puck hasn’t gotten her pregnant. Probably he will never get anyone pregnant again. (They were drinking and hanging out in the family room one night a couple years back, shortly after they bought this house and were still working hard to renovate it, when Artie asked him if he’d thought about trying to reverse the procedure, and Puck got very, very quiet. Artie answered everyone else’s questions -- though no one asked why he knew so much about it -- but Quinn sat on one side of Puck, Lauren on the other, and he never said anything, but sometimes he held their hands very tight.)

But now she is pregnant, and she waits, all her words dead, to see if she has broken his heart.

Puck closes his eyes; his lashes are long and dark, and watching him like this, they make him look vulnerable. She brushes her thumb lightly along the line of his jaw; the stubble there tickles the pad of her thumb.

When he opens them again, his eyes are shiny and his mouth trembles, but he does smile. Even better, he slides his hand under her shirt, rubbing her stomach lightly. His fingers are rough, his palm warm, and in that moment, it feels like the most amazing caress she can imagine.

“We’re going to have a baby.” His voice rises a little with awe, and she giggles, pressing her face into the pillow, breathing in the scents mingling there. He shifts around until he can press soft kisses right above her belly button. “A _baby_.” He whispers it against her skin, and the words sink into her like a promise.

He looks up at her, beaming, and she grabs his face, pulling him to her for a kiss.

She will tell the others later, probably all of them together when Lauren returns, but now Puck kisses her deeply, his mouth firm against hers, his hands soft, and now, now, yes, now she wants sex.

#

Lauren’s supposed to be home the next Friday afternoon, but her flight is cancelled. She gets in Saturday around breakfast instead, and Quinn volunteers to pick her up at the airport. At Quinn’s request, Mike and Artie cook breakfast, and Rachel, Matt, and Mercedes make sure everyone is up and ready.

It’s been a long week of keeping the secret with Puck. He sneaks her a daisy on Wednesday, and they dance around her bedroom, spinning and spinning together. Quinn’s bad mood isn’t completely gone -- part of it _is_ work stress, which remains, and she’s still slightly worried about telling the others, because though they’ve talked about having babies someday, no one has yet gotten pregnant -- but it’s better, and the house feels so much more cheery.

She has the trip to the airport timed perfect and doesn’t even have to park. She pulls up at baggage claim, and Lauren walks out the door a couple seconds later, carrying a suitcase that, if her other trips are any indication, has more gifts for the family than anything else. She tosses it into the trunk before settling in the passenger seat; Quinn leans over and greets her with a kiss.

Lauren eyes her when she pulls away, and Quinn quickly asks about her trip to try to distract her. She watches Quinn a second longer, eyes narrowed behind her glasses; she wears contacts now, but hates to fly with them in. Lauren is quick to pick up on people keeping secrets and trying to bullshit her, and Quinn is not quite ready to deal with that. Luckily, she lets Quinn distract her, and as Quinn pulls away from the curb, she settles back and starts talking about the newer wrestlers, her stories bubbling up with her excitement.

Quinn reaches over and holds one of her hands. Lauren slips their fingers together and strokes her thumb along the inside of Quinn’s wrist. Quinn scrunches up her nose, pushing her sunglasses higher, and drives toward home.

The others will gather for breakfast and to welcome Lauren home, but Quinn has other plans for them all. She will sit with her family, laughter and love surrounding her, and she will tell them they will have a baby soon.

Nerves twist inside her some, but she trusts in their love and their friendship. She learned in high school that with them, she can face anything, and in all ways their connections have simply grown deeper with time and energy and the desire to be good for each other.

She will turn to them and tell them, and their love will lift her up.

#

The baby comes at Christmas, in the middle of the nastiest blizzard they’ve seen in Massachusetts. Quinn takes Puck and Mercedes into the delivery room with her, and though for a moment, staring at them, she feels sixteen and terrified and heart-broken, they hold her hands and it passes quickly.

It hurts, it hurts, it _hurts_ , but in the end, they place a darling little boy in her arms. His eyes are big and blue and the shape of his face reminds her of Sam, a little. It doesn’t matter, though, because this is her child and Puck’s and Mercedes’ and -- well, he belongs to them all, and if she is lucky to have found such love, this child she cradles and any children yet to join them are luckier still, because together there is nothing they cannot provide, nothing they cannot survive, nothing they cannot make wonderful.

It isn't perfect, but nothing is, and it is everything Quinn could have dreamed of for her life and more.


End file.
